


Ink

by LadySpaceRadio, Lunamir



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alot of angst, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Sarcasm, Shared Dreams, Smut Eventually, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-01 11:36:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySpaceRadio/pseuds/LadySpaceRadio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunamir/pseuds/Lunamir
Summary: All her life Ryder waited for her soulmate marks on her skin to appear. Now she knows that there is no one left in Sol System, she’ll follow her father to the new galaxy in hopes of finding her purpose amongst the stars. Of course she gets more than she bargained for. With lives on the line, a race against an alien Hitler, Ryder doesn’t have time to worry about the silence of her skin. Until it’s not silent anymore.Evfra has been waiting his entire life for the dream mark that would lead him to his mate. But his dreams have remained stubbornly black, until one day a strange mark appears on his skin. Now he dreams of a woman he can’t reach with scribbles on his arm he can’t read and for the first time the General of the Resistance isn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t planned on falling in love anymore, and least of all with an alien!





	1. Age Of Abby

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the angst zone!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up with a blank canvas on your skin is a lonely existence.

At age 4 Abby Ryder learned about soulmates.

As far back as she could remember Abby heard about soulmates. Kids bragging about their own soulmarks or their parents. Even her own parents would show off their soulmarks now and then. But it wasn’t until her asari teacher pulled out a picture book and sat down her rowdy class that Abby truly learned about soulmates, their connection, and the soulmarks everyone had.

For asari, it was tethered lines that linked the pair together, allowing them to pass emotions and even thoughts between them. For Turians it was the face markings upon their plates that permitted the matching pair to recognize one another. For drell it was a pass of memories, a glimpse into the other's lifetime. For Salarians it was a counter, a timer that ticked backwards till the day you met your partner. For the Krogan, no one is really sure, there were claims that they just ‘knew’ when they met their mate, but since the genophage the Krogan said that the soulmate marking was gone. 

For humans it was ink. The ability to draw on one's arm and the image appearing on the others. A form of communications that allowed them to pass messages.

When a pair was unevenly matched, coming from different races, both soulmarks appeared on the mates. It was an unexplained phenomenon, much like the markings themselves. 

Abby’s teacher, a pretty blue lady, explained that her mate, a turian, had the ability to pass emotions to her while she had the facial markings of a turian printed upon her face.

After the lesson ended and the kids dispersed, Abby realized with new eyes that the kids around her whispered about their own soulmarks. Human kids flashing the scribbles of their arms, asari describing what their mate was feeling. Even the salarian was showing the little red timer ticking away on his wrist.

It was at this age Abby looked down at her naked arms and wondered why.

At age 5 Abby wrote her first proper sentence upon her arm. She had bounced all day waiting for a reply, because surely now she would get one after all her years of waiting. It wasn’t some dumb picture of a cat or tree. It was something that would path a way to link them.

It never came.

_ ‘hi im abbi rider.’ _

At age 7 Abby’s brother admitted to having a soulmate to her. He timidly revealed his skin, covered in words. Intimate conversations whispered across his skin with ink. 

“Vidal.” 

It was a name, written in bold confident marks. A bright red someone would never miss. Gabriel traced the name with a reverent look on his face before looking at Abby who gave him a hug whispering her pride and congratulations.

The truth of how she felt was hidden inside, never to be seen. 

After all her arms were still bare.

At age 10 Abby realised that maybe her soulmate wasn’t human and didn’t know their dialect. This thought came to her in the middle of the night as she watched her brother write across his arm.

She begged her mother to enlist her in art classes. If they couldn’t talk, then she would draw for them.

Ellen hesitated but in the end she caved.

At Age 11 Abby painted her first picture across her skin, it depicted her favorite place on earth. A tall mountain range, overlooking grass knolls and evergreen trees.

Her fingers were swollen and scabbed from constant practice but she didn’t cry that night when her arm remained persistently blank. Like always.

At Age 12 Abby stared silently at her arm, insisting that she just missed the marks. She wasn’t one of the few who didn’t have a soulmate, she knew it. She felt it. 

Still she cried herself to sleep most nights. Gabriel would sometimes hold her close if she woke him up. But the glance at his marks made her cry all the harder. He had love written across his skin, but hers lay bare in shame.

_ She wasn’t one of the few. _

At age 15 Abby started to thinking that perhaps something happened to her soulmate. She was well over the age for one to appear, and knew it was unlikely for it to happen now. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Till she met someone in the same boat as her.

“They probably are just protesting the whole thing.” Asher assured as she held the cigarette she had stolen from her parents out.

Abby took it, greedily inhaling the toxins into her system. It was rare for Grissom Academy to have anything like this smuggled in. 

“Probably one of those anti-soulmate shits. You know what, Fuck’em.” Asher grinned looping her arm over Abby’s shoulder. “We’ll have each other till the end.”

That gave Abby some comfort.

At 17 Asher met her soulmate, a drell who had been looking for her since he lost his arm. It would appear she had neglected to tell Abby that she had visions of the hanar homeworld.

“I’m sorry Abby,” Asher rubbed her arms looking stricken. “I didn’t tell you because I knew it would hurt.”

“It’s fine Asher,” She laughed pulling her into a hug. “Just remember to write!”

It wasn’t fine and she never wrote.

At age 18 Ryder went into the Peace Keeping

At age 20 Ryder gave up drawing.

At age 21 Ellen Ryder died.

Abby wrote only one thing that year.

_ HELP _

There was no reply.  
At age 22 Abby Ryder resolved herself to the fact that she would never have a soulmate in the Milky-way and decidedly went into the Initiative to find a purpose that was all her own. 


	2. Birth of Abigail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rising from the ashe's Abigail Ryder is built to be a strong woman, but when a soulmark suddenly appears across her not so silent arm little pieces of Abby begin to shine threw. Can it be? Has he soulmate appeared after all this time? And where are they?

Space

The unconquerable void to man. The dangers it holds within the deep folds of darkness was unfathomable. Beyond the extreme cold and lack of oxygen there were threats that the stars hid from eager explores.

 _Like the scourge_.

Commander Jane Shepard had been an unfortunate soul lost to the claws of the void. Abigail still remembers the story, of the SSV Normandy’s ultimate demise.

_It takes 15 seconds to lose consciousness in space. But so much longer to actually die._

Abigail wondered what Shepard's final thoughts were as she was strangled into a comatose state. Before hitting Achlera’s atmosphere melted her flesh within superheated armor. Did she think about her Turian soulmate? Or ponder the events that led to her death? Did she regret anything?

Or was she like Abigail, floundering in panic, trying to force oxygen into her burning lungs where there was none, clawing at her neck starved for a single breath as her mind wheeled at the simple thought that _this_ couldn’t be the end and only on the verge of death realizing that she had wasted her life.

In the span of those precious few seconds as she gasped for air, while her throat burned from the harsh dry heat and her lungs spasmed, it hit her like a krogan headbutt. Abby had led a pitifully dull life in the waiting room of _living_. It’s what she did. Waited for her soulmark, waited for a purpose, waited for her life to start, and waited to die.

It had taken 23 seconds of being clinically dead to actually wake up.

Before she left for the initiative and andromeda, after her mother's death Abby had decided she wanted to be reborn amongst the stars. To be born as a resilient, steadfast, brave, courageous woman. She wanted to be Abigail Ryder; a woman who chased her own dreams, who chose her purpose.

But the birth of Abigail came with a price. Her rebirth had cost Andromeda Alec Ryder.

Abigail would have chosen another route had she known.

But Alec made his sacrifice so she could live, and Abigail refused to let that death go in vain. She had been fearful all her life to make decisions on her own. Peacekeeping had been Alec’s way of dealing with a broken daughter, Eden Prime had been her mother's way of pushing her to start something new. The only thing Abby had chosen for herself was come to Andromeda, and that was a decision she made based on the fact that the only people she was close to were leaving her behind. In the Milky Way she had always been Abby ‘scared of her own shadow’ Ryder.

Now, centuries later and literally an entire galaxy away, she was the unexpected Pathfinder. Walking tall with confidence as she paved a way for the Initiative. Many had their doubts, even Abigail doubted the task at hand, but she was determined to move forward. She was no longer Abby, the shy daughter with blank skin, but the Pathfinder. A woman with a purpose, for once.

At the moment she was celebrating her newest victory. The first successful outpost of the initiative, Prodromos was a prospering settlement that Abigail had achieved amidst the broken bones of the Nexus’ past soul crushing failures. Taking a deep breath of dry air, Abigail tilted her head back and laughed. This was her purpose, and it was fulfilling.

Addison had just finished giving a shitty speech on their first steps of making Andromeda home. Tann had done a holo call to congratulate all the settlers for their bravery of being the first colonists on Eos. Abigail thought it more than a bit cold of him to ignore the equally brave dead of both Promise and Resilience. Then, after all the political propaganda bullshit had finished, August Bradley started the real party. Though they didn’t have much in the way of alcohol or food, the colonists made due with watered down beer and freeze dried fruit.

Abigail slipped away from the victory party after an hour or two, to watch the setting sun of this truly alien sky for the first time by herself and away from the noise. It was an adjustment going from an introvert to an extrovert, but Abigail refused to go back into the shell of a life that had for her, consisted almost entirely of waiting.

Sitting down on a sandy stone ledge, Abigail tapped her thigh as she watched the Eos’ sun dip down towards the horizon at a far slower pace than what she could still so clearly remember of Earth's sunsets. At most she still had an hour of light to do what she wanted.

Falling back into old habits, Abigail still carried her pens with her wherever she went. At the time she had wanted to share the beauty of what she saw with her other half. Now Abigail did it because it felt odd not having the familiar weight with her.

Pulling out her markers, she unlatched her armor, took off her glove and pulled back the kinetic fibers of her wetsuit to reveal the paleness hidden beneath all her layers. Skin that hadn’t seen the sun in over 600 years, that hadn’t felt the mark of a pen in just about same amount of time. Taking a breath, Abigail pressed the marker tip to her skin and shivered. The cold ink was certainly a contrast to her hot but cooling surface.

With a sigh she drew the marker across her wrist, watching as it stained the otherwise blank canvas.

 _Pinks and browns, yellows and oranges_ , Ryder drew the setting sun as a woman watching it for the very first time.

Deep down there was still the lingering hope that maybe she’d get a reply. But after so long, watching her skin remain a one way message didn’t choke her the way it used to. Abigail had accepted that this was just something she would always carry. The knowledge that she wasn’t complete.

She felt it. Every night,  every breath, every move, she felt the jagged pieces of herself. Pieces meant to fit someone else. It wasn’t a omission of truth, or her making things up in her head. It was fact. Abby had been made incomplete. Whoever had been her partner had not wanted her. She had come to accept it. That’s why she sat upon a canyon staring at a beautiful sunset on an unknown world amongst a new galaxy. She was here to find herself. And if that meant breaking down every expectation she once had to start anew, she was damn well going to do it.

 _Goodbye Abby_. The picture of the pigtailed girl who held onto hope despite everything slowly burned from her mind so that Abigail could rise from the ashes.

“SAM,” Abigail stretched, pushing the thick tresses of her red hair out of her face. “Is the Tempest ready for departure?”

_“Yes Pathfinder and Tann is waiting to speak with you.”_

“Oh God again?”

 _“He seems particularly interested in what you found in the vault._ ”

“Of course.” Abigail snorted as she pulled her armor back down. “Anything that he can broadcast to make himself look competent.” She had a feeling Tann would be pulling the ‘I told you so’ in the near future.

 _Fucking asshole_. She was still a bit miffed he hadn’t mentioned her in his holier than thou speech. Not one thank you. For one indulgent moment she idly thought of slapping a jump jet on his back and tossing him down the nearest remnant gravity well. The image of Tann screaming, flapping his spindly arms and legs in fright... well, she would be lying if she denied the smile it put on her face.

When night descended upon the Tempest, the triumphant and buoyant mood of her crew slowly but surely waned as the pressure to repeat this success surfaced. Though the members of the ship didn’t say it, it had been clear that while the victory of Prodromos was hard won, a repeat might be impossible.

Nights often brought a heavy dose of doubt with them.

While she lay there, twisted in the cotton sheets, Abigail would stare sightless at the galaxy above her. Mind twisting and turning, whispering horrid things that she kept locked away, out of sight. Things like the responsibility of her father's demise, of being half a soul, of being unwanted. The burdens of the many lay upon her shoulders in a suffocating grip that often tightened painfully. The hands of those who she couldn’t save were like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter till Abigail felt herself losing the carefully constructed woman she had become. And when she is gasping, curling her palm into her chest, nails raking across the skin that hid such a fractured heart, fighting tears and the ability to breathe, Abigail would give in and take the drugs Lexi gave her to sleep.

Her dreams were often a comfortable emptiness. A blanket of black nothingness where worries lay to rest and guilt hid.

Tonight would be no different.

Or so she thought.

The dream came in a swirl of muted colors. A fog twisted around her legs as it blanketed the scene around her. The haze film covered the land around her, confused Abigail twisted around seeking to find something familiar in the mist. But the land of mist didn’t last long as the whiteness laying over top the world darkened to the point that the land began to crumble into darkness, but not before she glimpsed a figure lurking in the distance.

Left in darkness she floated  twisting, panicking, searching for the unknown figure. It was almost compulsive she search for _him._ A need to find who lay beyond the veil. But the thoughts, the scattered urgency, dissipated as the darkness cradled her. Pulling her deeper into the vacant space of blackness where not even a thought could penetrate the darkness.

She was awakened from her drug induced sleep by a sudden and strange sensation on her wrist. Her arm was tingling with something that felt raw… but good. Like someone was dragging their nails down her skin in a slow sensual caress. Wild and flailing, Abigail scrambled up the top her bed, barking orders at SAM to turn the lights on.

Breath hitching, her eyes latched onto the single red mark standing harsh against the paleness of her skin. It wasn’t quite an inch long, lying vertically along her wrist right next to the main vein.

Exactly where she had painted the sunset.

“No way, no fucking way.” She touches it, running the pad of her finger against it and shivered.

Opening and closing her hand she pressed a nail into her skin, unsure if she was even awake at this point.

“SAM, what is this?!” She pointed to the small line.

 _“It would appear to be a soulmark, Ryder._ ” SAM’s sphere on her desk rotated as he spoke. “ _Congratulations_.”

_I have a soulmate! I have a soulmate?_

“This can’t be happening.” She slowly curled inward, pulling her knees up to her chest while staring at the very visible red line. The ball of worry that always lay squashed between her lungs popped. Filling her chest with a tightness that pressed hard into her diaphragm with a spasming pain.

_This couldn’t be happening!_

_“It is indeed happening.”_ SAM informed her as she started rocking back and forth making a keening noise. The bubbling feeling of relief and excitement boiled over as she drowned within the tides of so much emotion. Letting go, Abby surfaced as Abigail fall way like the tears dripping off her skin.

 _“Ryder…”_ SAM”s soothing electronic call sounded worried at he watched her sobbing form. “ _should I get Lexi?”_

Abby never did answer him as she pressed her wrist to her forehead and cried. For the first time since she came to Andromeda, Abigail Ryder cried with abandonment.

She scared Lexi half to death.

For days she sat staring at the line, waiting for something else. But the red line was all she got. And as it slowly faded, Abigail felt despair crash upon her in waves.

_Why?_

Why had there been no answer to her questions. Was it because the person was shy?

What if it was a baby! Abigail froze for a second before remembering the initiative still had blockers in place. Still, she continued to mull over the ideas of why. Why now? Why was there no return answer?

_Why, why, why?_

The longer her skin stayed silent, the more morbid her questions began. What if they weren’t here in Andromida like she had first thought? If they were back in the Milky-way there was no hope of meeting them. What if they were in Andromeda? What if they were a Kett. Oh god what if they had shot at each other on Habitat 7 or Eos?!

Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

“SAM, what is the possibility that the soulmark was a fluke?”

 _“It is unlikely Ryder,”_ SAM’s tone was softer, lower. He knew what Abigail struggled with when it came to soulmates. They talked endlessly about why she never received a reply in the Milky-way, and now they speculated together why she received one now. In such an odd manner no less. _“I monitor all your systems.”_

“So you knew when I got it and what it was.” She summarized. “Do you,” She paused licking her lips, “Do you think that it’s a Kett?”

There was a moment of silence before he answered. _“I do not have sufficient data to make a educated guess.”_

“Make an uneducated guess.” She plead.

“ _No_ .” SAM said with no hesitation. _“Perhaps, Ryder, it is a species we have never met? This is still a largely unexplored galaxy.”_

The tension in her shoulders eased a bit as she finally stops pacing.

Was it possible that whoever was her significant other was an undiscovered alien species?

Chewing her lip, Abigail looked down at her wrist. The idea made a lot of sense. If they were alien, not from the Milky-way, then they wouldn’t have translation for human language, which would be why none of her many questions were answered.

Tracing her finger absently over the faded mark, Abigail looked out at the stark space beyond.

_Where are you?_

_“Ryder,_ ” SAM’s voice intruded on her thoughts, making her jerk to an abrupt stop in the middle of pacing. One foot was raised to take the next step but froze midair when he called her name. “ _Kallo is requesting your presence on the bridge.”_

“Huh,” She about faced, heading towards the small bin of haphazardly thrown clothes before idly rummaging through the pile. “I thought we had another hour till we reached the vault.” Abigail tugged her hoodie out and over the well worn Blast-O tee as she walked towards the door

_“It would appear we have a problem.”_

“Shit.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I first just want to say the response to this fiction blew me away. You guys are some thirsty people. XD I want to thank all of you for your comments and reviews. It has been heart warming and inspiring.
> 
> Second I just want to thank my Beta/co-writer, Lunamir. Shes been a huge help on bouncing ideas off of and the writing process in total. 
> 
> If any of you want to hit me up, to chat or have questions, I'm on tumblr under the same username: LadySpaceRadio.
> 
> Till Next time: The Man Without a Plan: 'What the skkut is on my arm?'


	3. Giraffe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evfra has lived his whole life without dreaming, dedicating his very existence to the Resistance. But things are changing.

The angara found their other halves through dreams.

It was a connection that linked them from birth.

Evfra had heard the tales all his life of the joy and intimacy such a connection brought each pair. But he had never experienced it himself. 

Oh it wasn’t obvious that there was anything different about Evfra as a babe. His mothers had simply thought him just another fussy infant that disliked sleep. It had been quite some time before he had been old enough to understand that there was something seriously lacking in him. 

Evfra de Tershaav did not dream.

His mothers had been adamant that there had to be some mistake. True, there was the rare tragic tale of lovers never meeting, dying before the mating bond was complete, but nowhere on the Angaran worlds existed any mention of someone simply… alone. 

At first his family had decided that his mate simply had not been born yet as not every pairing was close in age, some were as far as seven or even nine years apart. Everyone but Evfra ignored that even in those cases the older angara in question had always dreamt of  **something** , blurred shapes and fog instead of the empty black void that awaited him each night.

The blood blue angaran boy only grew more sullen with every dreamless year, but still he waited. For the one who would love only him, Evfra de Tershaav swore he would wait as long as it took.

By his twenty fifth year, his patience had worn thin in the face of his family’s well meaning but ceaseless pity. His heartache gained a desperate, almost savage edge as he faced the possibility of dreamless nights unending. 

_ Why Why  _ **_WHY?!_ **

What had he done to be so undeserving? For what possible  **skkutting** reason could the Stars have for denying him the other half of his soul?!

It was a few more years before Evfra found his answer at the hands of the Kett. 

Screaming. Gunfire. Splashes of blue,  _ so much blue _ staining the floors and walls. Smoke. Pain.    
Then silence.

Evfra awoke in the ruins of his family home with the dead eyes of his youngest niece staring at him. 

_ Sweet Avinii had been excitedly telling him about her dreams just a few hours before.  _

Her small body was twisted into an unnatural shape and it broke him. 

Without a word his hands gently gathered her into his arms and with great care he tucked her into bed with her favorite stuffed toy. 

Armed with his true mother’s assault rifle and firaan, Evfra left to find the rest of his family. 

But they were long gone.

After his family was taken on Voeld, Evfra felt he finally had the answer for being born an unpaired Angara. He was to be an uncompromising blade striking at the heart of the enemy.

He would fill the void in his soul with the bodies of a thousand dead Kett.

The Resistance had always been there after the kett came, but only as unorganized pockets of scattered fighters. Through the sheer force of his rage Evfra rallied his people, pulled them together across the stars and transformed them into a force that held the Kett back. 

And at the time it had worked, till the kett realized what was happening. First is was Eos, lost to the ketts attrition warfare. Elaaden was next, though pockets of Resistance forces stayed hidden with civilians. Kadara was on the cusp of being another loss.

They were fighting a losing battle once more.

Until one day it changed again.

Strangers came, much like the kett. Out of the stars they appeared, scouring various worlds. The kett lost their footholds in some worlds as they fought against the new aliens. This in turned forced them to focus their attention on others. Angara kidnappings increased, and so did the pressure to simply survive.

The resistance was on the verge of failing.  **He** was on the verge of failing.

Reports poured in every day. News on ketts movements. The horrors of what they have done. Attacking supply lines, ambushes on scouts, so many MIA reports. They were targeting comms trying to leave the resistance blind. The worst yet were the reports of civilians. Stories so similar to his own. Families ripped apart.

Evfra had been reading over such a report when it happened. As if someone had stabbed him with a dull firaan, pain erupted in his chest, his lungs spasmed as if to draw in air but there was none available. Stumbling he latched onto the table in front of him, dropping the datapad. His hand pressed to where his heart lay as it ‘ _ thump-thumped _ painfully beneath the skin and muscles. Tears blurred his vision as the recurring thought of ‘ _ I can’t die here! _ ’ echoed in a voice that was not his own.

As the seconds ticked by the agony reached a peak before it abruptly stopped.

“EVFRA!” Someone was yelling repeatedly. “BY THE STARS! GET OLVEK!!”

He opened his mouth to snap at them that he didn’t need the skkutting doctor. But the fighters were already scrambling, yelling for Olvek who was just a level below.

By the time the old angara made it up the steps, Evfra is back to growling orders at his bewildered men. Getting them settled and focused back on the information pouring in. 

It took a full five minutes for Olvek to pull the General away from the resistance feeds and start checking him for signs of sickness. Routine scans are done, medical checks are clear, leaving the medic puzzled over these signs. He glances at the charts, double checking that it states no mate recorded.

Having enough of being treated like an invalid the Resistance leader stands again. “It’s just exhaustion.” He proclaims as there is no other clear cause being presented.

“Evfra,” Olvek frowned. “This isn’t mere exhaustion.” He hesitated which made Evfra’s frown deepen “I-I’ve seen this before, many times when a...when an angara loses their  _ culum mea _ .”

“Preposterous.” Evfra snarled, his lip curling in aggravation. “I’ve never had a mate.”

Olvek eyes him, as if this was something Evfra would  _ skkutting _ lie about. The resistance leader glared at him, daring the doctor push him on this. Olvek instead shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll prescribe something to help you sleep, and I recommend you to get more sun Evfra.”

Grunting the resistance leader turns his back, returning to his safe haven.

The phantom pain doesn’t leave him for sometime, like small fingers wrapped around his heart, he can feel a searing squeeze now and then. Sending shocks of pain rocketing down his spine. Lingering behind the pain though was that little  _ feminine _ voice who had been crying out that she couldn’t die here. He ponders the peculiarity of all that has happened for a few more days before another kett ambush sweeps the incident away.  

It’s children this time, taken from the clutches of their mothers.

Evfra is snarling at the news, barking out orders to skkutting prepare for a counter attack. He will not let the younglings be taken as long as he’s still breathing when  _ it _ hits.

His arm  _ burned _ , a delicate flame brushing gently across his arm. As if someone is stroking the bioelectricity down his arm in a lover's caress. Sensual, slow, and seductive.

Hissing with confusion, Evfra throws down the datapad he was holding, scaring the recruit who had been reporting in as he peeled back his sleeve and froze. 

Gentle curving traces a picture were being born upon his arm. Stroke by lazy stroke the swirling colors of a sunset bled onto his arm.

“What the skkut is this!” Evfra roared wiping his fingers across the image, smearing the details that were painted upon his skin.

His outrage had gained the attention of all the fighters, those who were curious enough cast peeks at his arm, while others were too fearful to leave their station.

“Perhaps sir,” A pilot who had been reporting in hedged back. There was a tremor in his voice as he spoke to Evfra. “Olvek could look at it and-.”

Evfra chuffed cutting off the angara. “Finish your report with Raviin.” His second in command turned at the sound of her name. 

The pilot nodded before scurrying over to her. 

Giving his arm a long look, he nodded to Raviin as he stepped out. The light blue angara returned the gesture before frowning at the pilot explaining what was happening. 

Olvek is sitting, scrolling through his list. Inventory needed counting, and if there was surplus then it needed to be shipped to those in need. He’s squinting at the screen, crunching numbers when his vision suddenly shifts to something  _ colorful. _ It takes the old, tired angara a moment to process that there is an arm now in his field of vision.

Following the arm to it’s owner, Olvek came face to face with the scowling leader of the resistance. 

“Are you an artist now Evfra?” Olvek inquired in good nature. It was something the blue angara took in stride, sometimes Olvek almost got a smile out of the wary angara. Today would not be one of those days.

“I’m not finding your attempts at humor funny Olvek.” Evfra hissed. “What is this?” he demanded, pointing down at the mark in disgust.

“A picture.” Olvek ventures. 

“How did it get there?” Evfra presses, his arm is practically touching the medics nose at this point.

Olvek gives the general a look before examining the smear picture. Lips tipping down in a frown he studies it for a moment. “How exactly did you get it?”

“That is what I am asking you.” Evfra chuffs. “It just  _ appeared. _ ”

“Just….appeared.” Olvek regards the arm one more time before crossing his arms. “Tell me everything.” 

Evfra wasted no time explaining how he had this odd feeling burn across his arm, and when he went to check, pulling his shirt back he found  _ this _ . Wet on his arm like it had just been painted.

Olvek was quiet for a long moment before sighing, which usually meant he was about to say something the pissed Evfra off more. “I only have a theory…..Have you been,”

He hesitates again. “dreaming?”

Like poking a festering wound, the pain flared. The jagged edges of a fractured soul lay bare and empty. It was a shameful mark he would always have.

“No.” He snaps. “I have  _ never _ had a mate.”

“Evfra.” Olvek stands placing a hand upon his forearm above the marking. “I think this is a soul mark. The new aliens might be-.”

“No.” He couldn’t possibly have a mate with those heathens. The ones who sold their own for money and slaughtered each other at the slightest provocation. No he couldn’t have a mate like that.

There isn’t much else exchanged between the two angara. Olvek attempts again to broach the subject but Evfra shuts it down, with only a sad look he sends the General back to his troops to fight another day. 

It was no secret to anyone who serves beneath the detached angara what happened to him. However not all know that the scarred male had never dreamt a day in his life. There was only one other case Olvek knew of, yet he held onto hope that these newcomers would bring about a peaceful future.

Grabbing a rag he wiped the image away. Scrubbing the colors off into the basin, watching them swirl away till only his skin is left.  It wasn’t possible that his mate was an  _ alien. _

_ Wasn’t it? _

That night he dreamt in color.  Of a planet he had never seen. On a hill that overlooked the sunset that had been painted upon his arm. The land was a dusty brown while the sky was a brilliant blue. He could feel the wind kicking up dust around his feet while the murmuring sound of life drifted from below.

_ Souls dream _ .

Heart in his throat Evfra twisted around. His eyes scanning and searching. For a frantic moment he couldn’t find  _ her _ . Only the dusty planes of this flat starved world. But he could feel her. Feel the flutterings of her heart, her twisting emotions and confusion. He can feel the thrum of their connection. How it's growing stronger the longer they stay in this connected dream.

_ She is alive and his. _

Around and around he turned till his eyes landed on her, a mere spec standing in white armor, to far to see clearly, but close enough to know she looked….wrong. 

_She can’t be..._  

As if the connection sensed his forming rejection, the world at his feet begin to quake. Colors splintered, turning back into a dulling gray color, sucking away all warmth leaving only a starch coldness.

She did then turn, face plate glinting in the sun before everything began to crumble, she started to fade from view, taking the sky and land with her till Evfra was left to suffocate in familiar darkness again.

_ NO! _

Jerking awake, he gasps. Muscles twitching as electric volts shimmer beneath the surface agitated. His fist slams into the wall beside his cot, leaving a dent.

He just ruined their connection.

For the rest of the night he sits in the silence of his rooms. He feels torn in two, yet whole at the same time. Absently his hand rubbed across his chest, above the rapid beats of his heart. Around and around his mind turns.

He wasn’t unworthy.

She was real.

She was his.

Her origin didn’t matter.

After 40 years of waiting, Evfra had a mate and once he found her… he was never letting go.

Before the first rays of the sun could greet the dawn, Evfra had slipped from his bed and walked the silent streets of Aya. Vendors had yet to set up stalls as most would still be dreaming with their loved ones. Some of the veterans of the Resistance called greetings as they went to work, switching out with the other fighters who had been monitoring feeds and reports during the night. 

With the morning dusk peaking over the horizon, Evfra made his way to the repository. There was something he needed. Avela was certainly surprised to see the resistance leader, and even more surprised to hear his request.

As silently as he came, he was gone before anyone could really realize that the leader of the Resistance was passing by with a harsh scowl twisting his mouth.

Once in the safety of his base of operations, Evfra pulled out the small thin device to study it. Wondering if he was making a fool of himself. 

The small black artisans brush weighted heavily in the palm of his hand. Twisting it to have the tip pointing up. Evfra studied the ink stained felt nib. Red, like the Harval skyline of a waning sun.  

Avela had handed it to him with small inquisitive stares. She had been curious, probed him with timid questions, all he refused to yield an answer to. Now he stood in the headquarters, the few fighters present paid him no heed as the passed in and out of the room, carrying request and sending out orders. 

Uncertainty stilled his hand. What was he suppose to do? Would this even work?

Grunting he lay the tip against his skin, and drew a hesitant line. The small red mark stood out against his deep blue skin. Beneath the drying ink he could feel the faintest of tingles dancing across his nerves, just as he felt when the sunset appeared.

Would this bring back the link he’d shattered?

“Evfra,” A voice called from the doorway.

Evfra De Tershaav, Resistance leader, a man always on the alert, flinched at the sudden intrusion. The pen he held dropped to the ground and rolled beneath the table.

“What are you doing?” Jaal stood in the doorway looking perplexed at the General’s behavior. It would seem he had returned from the reconnaissance mission. 

Jaal Ama Darav was a good fighter, but far too skkutting nosy for his own good.

“Nothing.” Evfra growled kicking the brush away like it had burned him.

Jaal regarded him with a curious look before moving into the room with purpose. He was ambitious, reckless at moments but a good shot and a better soldier. Most of Evfra’s time was spent on Aya which meant he had to send others to gather information and carry out orders. Jaal was one of the few scouts he sent out and knew he would be returning. He was an Ama Darav after all.

The pen was soon forgotten as Jaal began his reports of Eos and Voeld. Though Evfra’s eyes drifted continuously down to look at his arm, wondering what came next.

Hours he waited. Watching something, but his arm remain persistently blank. Disappointed and no amount of frustrated, Evfra threw the pen away. Tossing it with an angry snarl out the open window.

He came to regret this decision moments later when the first of the lines began appearing. Pen gone, he could only stare in both amazement and frustration at the blocky lines. At night he’d trace the nonsense scribbles and wonder what she looked like. How’d she feel in his arms. It was the only thing that soothed the aching need that the tattered bond had left.

For days there was an endless stream of markings on his arm. Blocky black lines that made no sense to him. 

But they were more welcome than the dreams that came at night. Each evening, Evfra made little to no progress building back the link he lost. Constantly she was in the distance, across a cavern of stars staring silently at him. No matter how many steps he progressed forward she always seemed too far to reach, or if he pushed too hard the dream would crumble apart. 

She slipped through his fingers again and again.

Most nights he awoke snarling in frustration.

The only hope he had was the small thrumming of the what was left of the connection. He could feel her beating heart, even in the day. The feeling was tucked inside his chest, right next to his own heart. When the Resistance had a particularly bad encounter with the kett, he relied on those small fluttering beats to reassure himself that he was fighting for more. More than just the future of his people, he was fighting for  _ her _ .

But it was those times during the night, when small pieces of fractured emotions would reach him before the connection failed. These little swirling emotions stabbed at his gut with worry. His mate was a small bundle of fear and confusion, tinged with joy and wavering confidence.

It was at this moment Evfra wished for the Moshae's calm presence the most. He missed her counsel, and needed the advice. 

The day the Tempest showed, he probably should have known. That the woman with the all too soft smile, flaming hair, and green eyes was more to him than just the savior of his people

It had been another day at the Resistance, where a collective breath was being held as they were monitoring kett ships that had drifted far too close to Aya. The battle cruiser that had been coasting along the scourge, seemingly with no definite course when the reports of an unknown ship entering Aya’s atmosphere began piling in. 

Evfra had been in a meeting. The kett had been up to something since the strangers had come from dark space. There had been high levels of activity at Ja Nihk and a seemingly unrelated report from Harval of angara scientist who went missing.  Evfra had been tasking Jaal with finding more out about the two when the report came to him. 

Preparing for the worst, Evfra waited for the the reports to come in, that they were under siege,  when his pilots reported in. The alien ship was defenseless and on fire. An unusual predicament that left Evfra hesitating. Before, when his skin was silent and his dreams were empty, it would have been a quick decision to bring the ship down. They could not afford to lose Aya. Now he was almost torn about taking down an alien ship. 

That choice was taken from his hands when Paaran Shie’s voice entered the comms telling them to let the aliens land. His pilots hesitated, they didn’t answer to the governor despite what she thought, when he sent an all-clear for the order.

Snarling, he organized snipers and troops to flood the streets and keep the civilians of aya safe. If this was an assault he was needed here, to coordinate counter attacks. Evfra would not leave his people blind. So he sent Jaal and listened to the sniper comms as the  _ Pathfinder _ was escorted to his base.

_ “Sector three reporting….It’s legs are odd.” _

_ “Her, and keep the chatter to a minimum”  _ Raviin snapped as she directed the sniper squad. “ _ Sector two clear she’s heading your way Valik.” _

_ “I see her.” _

There was a silence between each report, Evfra could feel the light fluttering of the connection beating rapidly. As he waited his hand pressed to the base of his diaphragm, was his worry bleeding into hers or was she in trouble? The worry about her well being that implanted itself in the back of his mind like a sickness silenced the moment the headquarters doors opened revealing Jaal and the small alien beside him.

The human Pathfinder appeared like the flaming sun of Voeld. Her eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before and tuff as red as the flames flickering in the lonely nights of Harval. 

Evfra found himself staring at this creature, trying to piece together the chaos of her body. 

Her legs were wrong, bending only once, her voice was wrong, speaking in a slow drawl like his growling and chuffing didn’t affect her. Her face was wrong. Eyes too wide and expressive, spilling out all her secrets, while her lip had the corners upturned at all moments, even when he was towering over her, snarling at her to  _ back off _ .

“Can’t,” She said with a dainty uplifting of her shoulders.

_ Skkutt she’s small _ .

“I have people I need to protect.” 

He noticed then the slight sag in her otherwise confident posture, the dark lines beneath her eyes, something burdened this woman. A brief flash of sympathy had him telling her he was sorry, for her people, but that didn’t change anything. She just smiled before saying.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” She tilted her head to the side her wide green eyes sparkling with a secret she wasn’t telling.

Evfra sneered. “That is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Her smile widened then, rows of white teeth revealed.

“You say the nicest things.”

She confused him. Confounded him to the very core. He tried intimidation, she looked amused, he tried reason, she bewildered him with nonsense. He had only force which left a sour taste in his mouth when he looked at her tiny body. 

_ I could snap her in half with one hand _ .

“Pathfinder-”

“Ryder.” She sniffed, smiling again. “Only elite douchebags have to call me Pathfinder,”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ryder. Why are you here?”

“Oh, well I met this-what did Jaal call him…” She tapped her pursed lips. “Archon, escaping him busted up my ship so we were forced to land. But we were already on our way here, see you got this vault I need to look at-.”

“No.” He cut her off before she could finish the statement. Her face twisted into a frown for the first time before the smile return. 

“What if I ask really nice.” Lids lowered as she stared at him with half hidden eyes while her voice had taken a lower, huskier tone.

“No.”

Huffing, she crossed her arms while her pink lips puckered out in a pout he only seen pups do when being denied. “You didn’t like sharing toys when you were younger did you?”

He had no dignified answer for that so he stared at her, hoping that maybe she was smart enough to take the hint.

She was not.

“Look Big Blue, you seemed like a nice...guy,” Someone snorted behind her. “But I’m going to insist that you let me see your vault."

“No.”

She sighed rubbing her face with those little fingers. She had too many segmented joints. “Is that the only word you have in your vocabulary?”

His lip twitched then in amusement before settling back into a frown. Because resistance leaders did find small mouthy invading aliens amusing. 

“Evfra,” Jaal stepped forward, tired from watching from the sidelines. “The Moshae could help.” The little Pathfinder behind him started nodding her head excitedly as she crosses her arms. 

“The Moshae is lost to us.” He hisses. 

The nodding stops abruptly. 

“If what she says is true,” Jaal hesitates before moving forward to clasp Evfra’s shoulders. “We have a chance to rescue the Moshae, should we not take it?”

“Let me help.” The human edges in. That constant smile is fainter now as she speaks. “Let me prove to you we aren’t... that  **I’m** not like the kett.” It’s her eyes so wide and honest that it has him hesitating. 

“Do what you want.”  He relents as Jaal persistently pokes at his shoulders. Little nudges the angara does when he wants to do something but needs Evfra’s approval.

_ If he gets himself killed it’s not my fault _ .

But his eyes continuously track back to the flaming strands curling around a small round face. Her green eyes gleam in the sunlight as she speaks to him. The tips of her pink lips are curling again.

“Next time you see me,” She pointed a finger at Evfra, almost challenging, “I’m going to have your Moshae.”

He hated her.

Something about her gnawed at him, made his skin prickle strangely. But those are worries he tucks away as the Resistance’s rising demands take his attention away from the woman sauntering out his door.

The days to follow are filled with reports. A series of events that Evfra never thought would come at the hands of an alien. Every report flooding in from Voeld was of one woman, and how she was single handedly wiping the ice planet clean of the kett’s grasp.

_ ‘Ja Nihk shields are down, Pathfinder spotted on her way.’ _

_ ‘Another ambush, Pathfinder showed up got the team out.’ _

_ ‘Need dispatch of rescued angara. Pathfinder says more are on the way.’ _

As the Pathfinder repeatedly proved herself to be invaluable, Evfra found himself in awe. She was a force to be reckoned with, even with her small stature. But while the Resistance was seeing better days, Evfra was still fretting over the silence of his skin. Days had gone by and there had been no whispering lines of black drawn there. He had attempted to get another brush from Avela who had turned stubborn on the point. Especially when he informed her that the last pen had been ‘lost.’

_ “That is part of our history!” Avela gasped. “Our great artists used them to depict the murals of history.” _

_ Evfra merely shrugged, he had no interest in history. He was here to protect the future of their people, not the past. When he demanded another one, the curator clammed up with surprising anger.  _

_ “I am not a vendor Evfra.” She tilted her chin, looking perturbed by the prospect of yet another lost artifact.   _

No amount of growling would prove to budge the stubborn woman who stood firm in her decision, until he found the ‘lost’ brush he would not be getting another one. Even snooping proved futile as she had taken what was left of the little writing tools and secreted them away.

As helpless in the waking hours as he is asleep, Evfra can do nothing but glower at his unchanging skin. Till one morning, while he lay sprawled across the cot staring unseeingly at the ceiling he feels the slow delicate strokes of another mark appearing on his skin. He shudders at the sensation and tries not to moan.

Upon its completion, the image that now graces his arm is of some strange four legged creature. Yellow with an elongated neck and spindly legs. It looks ridiculous against the blue of his skin.  

Evfra leaves it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies! Welcome back to the angst train, from Evfra's side now! Fun times are a head, but first lets get through all the muddling emotional baggage!
> 
> As always I have to say thanks to all you guys who have just showed this story so much love! You rock!
> 
> Now a side note from my Co-creater and beta (Also a beautiful writer!) Lunamir!
> 
> *Grabs Microphone From LadySpaceRadio*  
> ARE YOU FUCKERS READY TO ROCK?!  
> WELL GET ON THE GODDAMN FEELS TRAIN BECAUSE WE ABOUT TO FUCK SHIT UP!  
> YOU SEE THAT HOT BLUE FUCKER?!  
> WE'RE GOING TO WRECK HIS ASS!!  
> SO STRAP IN MOTHERFUCKERS CAUSE IT'S ABOUT TO GET BUMPY!!!!!!
> 
> Notes:  
> I took some liberty with the angara language. 
> 
> Culum mea- Angara translated word for soul mate; soul bond; Love reincarnated.
> 
> Til next time: Who's my Dream man?


	4. One step closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail has a talk with Jaal

Voeld was somehow  _ worse _ than being stuck at the ass end of Noveria wearing nothing but a bikini.    
  
A  _ skimpy _ bikini.

Abigail almost wished for Havarl again, that’s how shit Voeld was. 

The jungle world had been a marvel with its colorful plants and heart wrenching beauty… that surprise surprise, hid a ridiculous amount of danger. Abigail didn’t know why she had been expecting otherwise… aside from Aya, Andromeda was a consistent shitshow.

The whole planet seemed desperate to taste Milky Way blood. From the indigenous flora and fauna to the Remnant and Roekaar; everything had tried to bite, melt, laser beam, shoot or just plain stab her in the face. Even Jaal had commented more than once about the strange amount of hostility they were attracting. When all was said and done, Abigail had been more than ready to jump on her ship and GTFO.

_ Now _ she was seriously rethinking her opinion. Sure, Havarl had its share of problems, but not one of those included air so bitter cold it slid right into initiative armor like it owned the place and threatened to freeze her Pathfinding tits off.

The good news was that she was almost done with the death planet, the bad news, she was probably going to another planet that wanted to kill her in new gruesome ways. 

At the moment the Tempest crew was on standby, waiting for the Moshae to be released by the resistance doctors, who were stabilizing her for travel. Lexi was also in the medbay learning everything she could from them.

The last few days had been a hellish nightmare. Abigail still had the Cardinal's blood splattered across her. The pukish green color stood out against her white and gold armor. She knew she had to scrub it off eventually...but every time she got close, she was reminded of that hellish place, and the Kett who had seemed to believe so fervently in its horrors. Abigail had shot it dead while it proclaimed to her that she was beginning to be enlightened. To understand that this exaltation was a gift. Abigail hadn’t said a word in response, just put a bullet in its skull.

She had to kill it, because any creature that could condone, willingly inflict and even worship such evil had to die.

When Abigail tired of catching glimpses of her blood stained hands, the reminder of all she had gone through, all she had done and experienced, she ended up ripping off the offending armor and slinging it into the opposite wall where it clanked against the metal hulk of the ship before hitting the ground.

Her naked skin bothered her just as much.

It had been bare for weeks. Not a single image on Havarl, not even a scribble on Voeld, there was nothing. Her skin was just blank as it had been before they came to andromeda. Sometimes she’d awake in the middle of the night after another terrifying dream, and ask SAM if it really happened. If the little red tally had actually appeared, if she truly did have a soulmate. That she wasn’t incomplete.

During the small moments of time she had to herself Abigail wrote many things.

_ Where are you _

_ I’m Abigail Ryder _

_ Where are you _

_ Who are you _

_ I’m sorry _

_ Where are you _

Nothing.

That’s how it always was.

In the end she had given up writing and gone back to drawing.

Worse was the fact that Abigail couldn’t sleep well anymore. Her once dreamless nights had turn into nightmares. On some nights her dreams were of a cold blackness that she was trapped in. There was a bone deep sense of loneliness that seemed to grip her when she slept. In her waking hours she would feel a chill of her soul, the ragged edges weeping to be complete.

But if she wasn’t dreaming of darkness she would dream of foggy places where something, someone, lurked in the distance. Watching, tracking, hunting her. There was a desperate quality to these dreams. The suffocating need to  _ find _ ….something that bled into her. It was these nights where she’d awake drenched in sweat, hand reaching out to grasp at something, these nights scared her the most.

A hand rubbed absently at her sternum, while Abigail sat and thought. It seemed to be a new habit of hers to scratch at the patch of skin.

The night her soulmark had appeared Abigail started to notice this odd sort of rhythm beating next to her heart. At first, she thought it was a heart murmur. But Lexi assured her everything checked out. However the beating didn’t go away, but grew stronger each passing night. If Abigail didn’t know better she’d say she had a second heart buried in her chest, beating stronger and out of time with her own heart.

When she inquired about the oddity with SAM, the AI informed her he felt nothing. Which made her think there was something wrong, till SAM proposed a theory.

“Another soulmark?” Her fingers pressed into the armor hiding her skin. 

“It is a possibility.” SAM told her.

None of the Milkyway species had such a mark, which meant…

_ He’s in Andromeda. _

Abigail had sought out an angara opinion on this, and went to the only one available to her. Jaal had been her only outlet for any inquiries about his people, but the angara seemed reluctant to divvy out any information on this subject. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't know this was a sensitive topic among your people.” She had thought the angaran would be open about it, like they are with everything else, but Jaal seemed to claim up the moment she mentioned soulmates and their marks.

“No, no, we are, as a people very open about our mates. I just,” He hesitated, gaze dropping to the folded hands on his lap. “I don't have one.” 

“Oh.” Abigail shifted her feet. “I'm sorry.” 

“It is not your fault.” Jaal assured. “What are your questions?”

She hesitated, part of her wanted to know but another part understood this pain. “Are you sure? I can uh talk to someone else?”

He chuffed at that. “Who?” 

He had her there. Straightening her shoulders she began her questions. “How do your soulmates work?”

“When a pair of angara are born from the same star there is a preexisting link to their souls.” Jaal unfolds his hands, eyes looking off in the distance. “Some say that it is a rebirth of old lovers. Reincarnated to come together, to be whole, complete.” Something sad filters across his face as he speaks. 

Abigail understood that look all too well. To be a fractured soul, incomplete.

_ Broken. _

“And the soulmarks?” She inquires tentatively, almost scared to break him away from his thoughts.

Jaal blinked his blue eyes focusing back on her. “We dream.” 

“Oh?” She leaned forward eager. “What are they like?”

There seemed to be a delayed pause on his part as he stared at something over her right shoulder. “I have never experienced it myself, so this is all….second hand knowledge.” His hands rub together. “Most of the bonded pairs I’ve spoken to say their dreams are vivid realities that they build together with their link. They talk about the love and warmth poured within them. Some can even convey thoughts through them.”

Nothing like her dreams.

“I see...do you know about any soulmark that can cause another heart beat?”

This seems to shock Jaal as he leaned forward suddenly. “Do you feel another heart?” He almost seemed excited by the prospect.

“I...yes.” She presses her fingers to the spot, feeling the odd sensation beneath their tips. Strong steady beats that pumped faster than hers.

Abigail jumped when he threw his head back laughing. “Joyous news!” Jaal clapped her shoulders before pulling her into a hug. 

“Jaal, hey-you got to explain.” Abigail stumbled when he released her, a bewildered look crossing his face.

“Is finding a soulmark not a happy occasion for your people?”

“No it is!” Abigail shook her head. “But I don’t-I thought you said angara dream?”

“We do, but our bond links two souls together. Does your soulmarks not do the same?”

“Not like that.” She held her arm up, pulling back her sleeve where the cartoon giraffe lay with big, twinkling eyes. “Our uh human soulmarks allow the transfer of ink between skin.”

Jaal reaches out for her arm, pausing he glances to her face, asking for permission. Abigail nodded offering him the limb which he takes with warm palms. There’s an electric pulse where they touch, all the little hairs stand on end in reaction. Jaal gives a thoughtful hum, fingers rubbing across her skin.

“I did not realize you were so soft.” He traces over the little hairs standing at attention with a curious stroke, watching their movement “Or that you are actually covered in hair….it’s so fine here I didn’t even notice it before”

Snorting at the ticklish touch, Abigail shows off her other arm. “Yeah well... even in the Milky Way Galaxy we were the only aliens with hair. Sort of funny to come so far only to find that’s  _ still _ true. Guess that makes us special.”

Big blue eyes glanced up at her. “Indeed.” He turned his attention back to the ink. “If you feel the bond, have your soulmark, and dream-.”

“I don’t dream.” Abigail cut him off, pulling her arm back to curl around her stomach, as if to protect herself.

“You…..don’t dream?” He seemed bothered by this.

“Not-I mean I do dream but it’s not the way you described it...it's cold and dark... very hazy… almost kind of foggy so I can’t see anything….and it feels like I’m being stalked?”

His brow dipped together in thought. This was truly something he never heard before between soulmates. “Have you ever seen him?”

“No.” She almost shuddered at the thought, the desperation that clings to her after the dreams, the absolute  _ need, _ it was like an obsession. “No I haven’t. Whatever it was... it didn’t feel like a person.” She could see his slight alarm at that last bit 

“Ryder tell me exactly what you dream about.” 

“Uh some nights it's just nothing. Like I’m in darkness and its-its cold….” Abigail wanted to say like Voeld but the angara didn’t seemed bothered by the freezing temperatures there.

“It could be because the two of you keep different sleeping schedules.” Jaal surmised. Which made sense to Abigail. “And the other times?” 

“I...It’s hard to see, kinda...like there’s a thick cloud of smog covering everything. And there's this-this desperation to find...something. I don’t know.” She runs a hand through her hair, tousling the thick strands. “It's scary how deep I feel it Jaal, like I can’t breathe from the want.”   
“I have a theory… what was your first dream in Andromeda like?”

“Blinding,” She whispered thinking back onto the dream. “I remember I was standing on-on Eos, where I drew-” Her hands fly to her mouth. “Where I drew my first picture! Jaal I dreamt of the sunset I drew, but it was kinda murky like I was looking at it underwater.” It was hard to describe the lucid dream, how it was blinding and hazy at the same time. Bright yet dusty. “I remember turning around and there was….something lurking in the distance and then everything just went dark.”   
  
“He saw you.” Jaal rubbed at his chin “He must have been so confused when he saw you. Sometimes, when one of a bonded pair becomes distressed during that first dream, it can compromise the link. Not destroy it, but make it difficult to reconnect.” 

“What if-what if he didn’t like what he saw?” What if he saw her and rejected her because she was alien?

“Even if he did not at first, your intended has clearly come to terms with it. These dreams you fear are his efforts to re-establish that link. If your mate was dreamless before the Initiative’s arrival to Andromeda, it more than explains why his desperation for you is so terrible. Were I in his place…” Jaal’s face grew wistful “I would tear apart the stars themselves to find my one and only.”

Abigail licked her lips leaning forward. “How do I...how do we get the link back?”

“I do not know Ryder….perhaps one of the elders on Harval might know.” He looked down at his omnitool. “I will contact my family, see if one of them knows the answer.”

Nodding she traces the picture before looking up at Jaal. “If he’s-if he’s angara why doesn’t he reply?” She waves at her skin, distressed. 

“Ryder,” Jaal clasps her shoulders in a soothing manner. “My people haven’t used written pen in a long time.” 

“Oh!” Her jaw drops open in shock. “They-they don’t? B-but my soulmark was written in ink.”

“Perhaps they acquired a brush….” He thought about it. “I think the elders on Harval have a few and the repository of history should have some. But ink would be even more difficult to obtain.”

“How am I supposed to find them if I can’t communicate with them!” Abigail could feel the cusp of hopelessness rising.

“Do not lose heart Ryder, you will find him.” Jaal patted her shoulder. “I could write a message for you, explaining everything.” Jaal offered holding out his hand.

“NO!” They both jumped at the force of her refusal. “I mean,” Abigail cleared her throat. “Thanks but no... Jaal.” It felt wrong to have someone else draw on her arm, to communicate with her soulmate.

Jaal seemed to understand as he nodded.

“Could you-could you teach me Shelesh?” She asked and he beamed at her.   
Jaal was a ready teacher, and she was a quick learner. By the end of the night she was drawing across her arm in red ink, the same shade as the line that first connected them. 

_ Soulbond. You. Me. Happy. New. Traveler. Find You. _

It seemed primitive sounding, but her arm was only so long, and it got her intent across.  _ We are meant to be, I’m happy to have you. I’ve come a long way to find you. And I will _ .

She had wanted to add her name, but Jaal pointed out that shelesh didn’t have a word that matched her name or title.  He also didn’t want her to give away too much, for fear that they could belong to the Roekaar.  A thought that had disturbed her for a moment before she decided she would love them anyway, they were meant to be after all.

When nothing came back in reply she wasn’t surprised. Yes she yearned for an answer, craved it in deep within her soul even though Abigail knew there would be no reply. But it was fine because now she knew what she was looking for. She hoped he would be on Aya where they were heading next.

The beautiful paradise hidden by the scourge. Abigail sighed, fingers stroking across her sloppy shelesh, Jaal confirmed it look like a pup had done it and assured her it was legible when she panicked.

Nibbling her bottom lip Abigail wondered what he would look like. Would he be big like Jaal was? Or more like one of the recruits she had seen, smaller? thinner? What of his skin? Would he be purple or green or….

Blue. 

A harsh scowling face flashed before her eyes. A smile curved her lips at the thought of those cynical looks. If they were on Aya it meant she got the luxury of seeing the resistance leader again.

Abigail wistfully sighed at the thought.

All the angara seemed to have the same eyes, except him. His eyes, though beautiful like nebula dust scattered across the stars, were so bleak. Something she suspected reflected the man perfectly. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, dipping lower the longer she talked to him till the scars lining his face were stretched thin and taut. He looked as hard and cold as his position demanded of him.

Yet there was something compelling... lurking beneath that emerald blue skin.

Even if he was a pain in the ass to talk to. 

Okay… he wasn’t  _ that _ bad.

In fact the harsh scowl upon his face was far more amusing to her than it should have been. Even when he was growling for her to leave she merely smiled and just couldn’t help thinking how...  _ adorable _ he was. It was almost cute how completely baffled Evfra seemed to be by her reactions. The man was obviously so used to making others piss themselves with just a glare, that he had no idea how to respond when that  _ didn’t _ happen. Hell, the resistance recruits and even  _ Jaal _ seemed amazed at her complete lack of fear in their Leader’s presence. 

She had to be missing something because Evfra just wasn’t scary or intimidating at all. Sure he was a gruff and no nonsense leader with plenty of combat experience but there was nothing about him that stuck out to her as particularly foreboding.   


Especially once she realized that Evfra acted extra aggressive when she was around, something she only found out about because she had overheard two recruits complaining to each other 

_ “Oh skkut, the Tempest is back on Aya”  _

_ “Again?! ….what are the odds that the Pathfinder isn’t visiting HQ this time?”  _

_ “Slim to none”  _

_ “Skkut I’m still trying to recover from last time”  _

_ “Oh right you uh, you dropped a datapad while he was talking with her”  _

Abigail remembered it, Evfra had suddenly whipped around and snarled a rather vicious lecture at the poor man about carelessness. Once the victim was sufficiently shaking in his boots, Evfra had calmly turned back to her… oddly puffing his chest. She had no idea what he was looking for in her expression but when he didn’t find it he just seemed… oddly disappointed? 

Which had her smiling at him. An action that baffled her as much as him.

There was an excited bubble in her gut at the prospect of all the things Aya possibly held for her. She was looking forward to seeing the secret utopia again….

And  _ him _ .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my Lovelies! I have returned to you, refreshed and burned! Whooh would have thought? Thankfully here were no seagull attacks. AND-
> 
> -HERE'S THE CHAPTER YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! YAY! 
> 
> Sorry it took so long, there was somethings that needed to be done. My Dad's going in for a colonoscopy Monday, so if you all could say a little pray for a clean bill I'd really appreciate it!
> 
> As always thank you for all the love you send our way!
> 
> Now a message from Lunamir!
> 
> Awwww Poor Evfra instinctively trying to impress the pathfinder with how much of a big scary male he is...and he doesn’t know he’s doing it.
> 
> Till next time: The skins reveal!

**Author's Note:**

> I know the chapters short, but I needed to get Abby's story out so you understand somethings about. She's mostly a sarcastic human hiding a lot of inferior complexes. Something that's going to come rolling out big time in the furutre. 
> 
> I wasn't sure if I was going to even post this story, but Abby just wouldn't stop intruding and pointing at Evfra with a big smiling saying 'I want that one.' Unlike my other story with Grace, this one's going to be a lot more angsty. SO YAY!
> 
> Tuesdays will be Ink and I'm moving Fire and Glass to friday. Two updates a week is a lot of editing! Whooh! Anyways hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Drop a kudos and comment if you please and if you want to talk about mass effect and stuff, or just talk hit me up on tumblr. Same username there too!
> 
> Till next time: The birth of Abigail!


End file.
